


take me in your arms, squeeze out the cold

by Capitola



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb and Beau don’t touch if that’s important to you, Dubious Consent, Multi, Orgy, Sex Pollen, Threesome - F/F/M, critmas treat, up to your imagination what everyone else is doing in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitola/pseuds/Capitola
Summary: The distance between a cuddle pile and a fuck pile turns out to be about as small as Jester had always suspected.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76
Collections: Critmas Exchange 2020





	take me in your arms, squeeze out the cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flammablehat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/gifts).



> Title is from "Portable Television" by Death Cab for Cutie.

The cave they stumble into has a strange smell to it.

The Mighty Nein and their long-suffering guide are too tired, too worn out from a fight in the snow and more than an hour slogging through the beginnings of a terrible snowstorm to question anything about their shelter. Besides, it’s not the sour, dangerous musk of an animal having made this place its home - just a dim, musty, almost incense-like smell, only barely distinct from plain old wet cave smell after you’ve been smelling it for ten minutes. 

They huddle close around the fire for eating, closer still when it’s time to conjure up the hut and sleep. They begin to peel off their outer layers once safe in the warmth of the dome, and the press of skin to skin feels...good. Better than good. Jester finds herself with Caleb lying against her on one side and Beau on the other, and she’s so _warm_ — the cold wasn’t as bad for Jester as it was for the others, but it’s still much more comfortable like this. It’s so comfortable that it almost becomes uncomfortable, like some other feeling is trying to break through. 

Jester breathes, deeply, trying to calm herself down, but her nostrils are filled with more of the odd smell of the cave, and whatever that cologne Beau uses is — that fresh, no frills smell Jester’s become so accustomed to seeing Beau put on in the morning. She inclines her face towards Beau’s, and though she’s not quite sure _why_ , she moves a few more inches forward, pressing her lips against Beau’s own. She tastes that medicinal grease Beau is always rubbing on her lips, mixed with a little of the sharp alcohol taste from Veth’s old flask that Beau’s been carrying around. 

Something vague flashes in a Jester’s head, a sense of _why did I just do that_ , waiting for Beau to push her off, but she doesn’t, she kisses Jester back and moans against her mouth as she pulls Jester closer in, and something in the air breaks, like a bubble popping. Suddenly they’re not the only ones moving, not the only source of the sound of lips pressing against lips, hands brushing hands and hips and other places.

The distance between a cuddle pile and a fuck pile turns out to be about as small as Jester had always suspected.

Caleb tries to pull away from her, murmuring weak, foggy excuses, but Jester holds him close with her tail wrapped around his leg, and he relents, nestling himself against her back and nibbling gently down her neck. 

“Stay,” Jester says, pulling her mouth away from Beau’s as long as she can stand it. She puts a hand around to cup Caleb’s cheek, softly tracing his ear, his hair coming loose from its ponytail. 

“But only if you can keep up,” Beau adds, her tone looking for a competition but not a fight, slurring her words ever so slightly. She returns to kissing Jester with an even more insistent press of her lips, and when one of her hands goes to Jester’s breast, rubbing circles around her nipple, Jester can’t remember why she still has _any_ clothes on when they just get in the way. 

“I think I can manage,” Caleb says, though his protests are somewhat undermined by how out of breath he already sounds. His hand goes to undoing his shirt, echoing the sound in the rest of the dome of clothes being undone and peeled off, everyone undressing down to the skin so as to better touch each other. 

Beau’s hand trails down to between Jester’s legs, running through the curls of her hair before one finger presses intently at her clit. Jester moans as the pleasure radiates out around her body, each touch both satisfying her and leaving her wanting more. She can only think as far as returning the favor, bringing her own hand to Beau’s clit, to trace the wetness further back, and the gasp that wrings out of Beau’s mouth is the sweetest sound.

Well, it is at least the equal of Caleb’s breath on Jester’s neck, slowly growing steadier, more comfortable. He sounds happy, peaceful, and Jester breaks her kiss with Beau to turn and kiss Caleb, feeling the soft whine of his breath under hers. His dick is pressed against her hip, hard as a rock, and when she takes it in her hand, her other hand still working away at Beau, a drop of precome wells up at the tip. 

“Fuck me,” she whispers, and he nods, a conversation that feels like it should have taken so much time, so many words reduced down to a command and a gesture. He slides his hand between her legs, opening up her cunt with two fingers, and she’s never, ever been this wet before. She feels so safe, so _contented_ , with her hands on Beau and Caleb and their hands on her. 

“Tell me… tell me if I hurt you,” Caleb murmurs, as he moves his hand to the inside of her hip. He slowly moves her legs apart and then pushes his cock into her, groaning as his rough fingertips grip her legs. It doesn’t hurt; it feels good, it feels like another piece of the puzzle of what she needed, a good companion to Beau’s hand on her clit. It _is_ a bit awkward in this position, with her tail still between her and Caleb, but it gets a little easier as she brings it up to wrap around his torso. Jester feels his chest heave in each breath beneath the muscles of her tail as he works up a rhythm with his thrusts, working in silent tandem with Beau’s fingers.

She’s trying to focus on getting Beau off, experimenting with curling her fingers into Beau’s pussy, rubbing her clit with two fingers, three fingers, her thumb. She can’t tell how much of a difference it makes; Beau seems to be just as blissed out as Jester feels, like she’s already at one-hundred percent and every touch just takes her higher. 

When Beau comes, though, there’s no mistaking it, no other explanation for the moan she makes as she throws her head back, for the mix of shock and satisfaction on her face. Her hand on Jester stills, just a moment, then returns to its task with trembling determination.

Jester doesn’t last much longer, not with the care and the determination with which she’s being fucked from both sides. What starts as a wave of euphoria spreading through her turns into a crashing tide, and she screams as she comes, pulling Caleb even closer against her back, biting into Beau’s lip. 

Caleb keeps thrusting into Jester until his pace stutters, and she turns to pet his face again as it twists up, as he groans in pleasure. He tries to pull out of her as he comes and the result is a sticky mess between her legs. 

“Gross,” Beau mutters, flinging some that got on her hand onto Caleb’s chest. Even fucked-out as they all are, Jester can see the wheels turning in Caleb’s head, trying to find some retaliation for having his own spend flicked onto him. “You gonna fall asleep after that, old man?” 

“Not… a chance,” Caleb says, pausing to catch his breath. He reaches a hand out to stroke Jester’s chin. “Are you feeling — ”

“Good!” Jester finishes for him, her hand over his. She feels great, better than she has in — oh, _forever_ , easily. Like this is easier, better than things had ever been before. She’s not _satisfied_ , but her wants, oh, her wants are all in easy reach.

“Yeah?” Beau puts a hand on her other cheek, turns Jester’s face back towards her. Her thumb brushes over Jester’s lip. “Jess…” 

“Uh-huh?”

“Can I have your mouth?”

Oh. _Oh._ “Uh-huh,” Jester says, tongue grazing over her teeth as her eyes flick down past Beau’s abs, down to the dark crescent of her pubes. “You want me to…?” It comes out sounding like all one word, _youwanmeto?_

“C’mon,” Beau says, guiding Jester’s face down with the slightest tug of her fingertips. “S’like eating… like eating a peach.” Beau waggles her tongue between her teeth in a way that is cute but not very helpful.

“Okay,” Jester presses her face to the soft curls of Beau’s hair, smelling sweat and arousal and the orgasm she already drew out of her. She moves further down, sticking out her tongue experimentally — _like a peach_ , that means _sucking_ , that means _tasting._ She runs her tongue over Beau’s clit, giving a little suck, and Beau groans, shifting her grip on Jester’s head from her chin to one of her horns.

“Don’t pull it,” Jester says, which seems to be the most important thing to say right now, and Beau doesn’t, she moves to stroke her thumb at the base of the horn with an aggressive gentleness, and _oh_ , that feels nice too. Satisfied, Jester returns to this new, heady taste, these new textures of Beau’s clit and slick lips. It feels clumsy, like trying to eat her way through a weirdly shaped sundae, but Beau keeps making noises like she’s enjoying it.

Caleb clears his throat. “Might I still…” His right hand is still resting on Jester’s hiplike an anchor, but she can feel his left occasionally brush against the back of her legs. When she picks up her head to look back, she can see his fingers working over the head of his dick, and something in her pussy _clenches_ at the thought of having him again.

“Yeah,” Jester says, before burying herself back in Beau’s cunt, not looking, letting it be a surprise when Caleb fucks into her again, making her moan against Beau. Beau’s legs wrap around her head, trying to be gentle but _squeezing_ when Jester does something right, and she keeps doing things right, apparently.

Jester wonders what they’re doing now that she can’t see their faces, they’d be in a good position for makeouts but that doesn’t seem like the kind of thing they’re about to experiment with, even...now. What makes _now_ more special than any other night they’ve slept under the dome, why they’ve never all done this before, these questions float hazily around Jester’s head but not so intensely that she cares to try and answer them. But she doesn’t think they’re kissing. Maybe they’re glaring daggers at each other, or making faces, or maybe… maybe they’re talking about her. She likes that, thinking of them mouthing words about how good she’s being for both of them. 

She’s hazy on the chain of events that lead to the three of them coming the second time, whether Caleb slides a hand down first to work at her clit and she gasps between the two of them; or whether Beau clenches around her, whining as Jester keeps licking at her; or whether Caleb’s pace falters again, and this time he doesn’t even manage to pull out of her before he jerks and spills over inside of her. 

It’s not one of those combinations where the order matters, the end result is the same: the three of them cuddling in a much closer, much more intimate configuration of how they originally arranged themselves to sleep. She kisses Caleb, then Beau; wet, lazy, sated kisses. As she closes her eyes, still breathing heavily, and she catches another whiff of the smell of the cave, and the dreams it sends her off to are sweet ones.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [asterCrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash) for beta reading this, and convincing me to double it in length. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3 You can also find me on [tumblr](https://capitola.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/knitinerant).


End file.
